Broken Toy
by amberkarp
Summary: Dan is sick of the teasing. He just can't bear how his life is progressing so far - with Phil's absence in it. Thankfully, Phil just might be there to save Dan from himself. (Crap summary)


Pastel!Dan x Punk!Phil

Dan's POV

The boy's words still rung in my ears as I slid down the wall of our school's hallway, dragging my arm over my eyes.

" _You're worthless, brat! Just go kill yourself already," he said, eyes narrowed in disgust. I cringed, trying not to cry. "Who the hell wears_ pink _jumpers, anyway? What kind of idiot are you?" Seeing my distress, the boy snickered. He brought back his leg and kicked me in the shins. I fell over, skinning my arms on the rough concrete of the school's roof. I shielded my head with my hands, expecting another blow. The boy, who had been standing over me, looked down. "Pitiful," he hissed, leaning forward to rip my flower crown off of my head and crush it in his filthy hands. The boy turned on his heel and walked away. I heard the door to the roof slam, and quickly dashed down the stairs, but not before grabbing my beloved flower crown in my still-shaking hands. I had gotten to the hallway by my third class when what had just happened really hit me._

Now, slumped against the wall and crying like a toddler, I thought back to the boy's words. _I really am pitiful._ I rubbed my arm harder against my eyes, trying to erase any evidence that I had been crying. I heard the scuffle of shoes to my right, and I immediately jumped up. Seeing who it was, however, sent mixed feelings through my body. I felt the familiar butterflies in my stomach that I grown to hate, but I also felt the burning feeling of embarrassment.

"Dan?" Phil, the mysterious punk who just _happened_ to be the heartthrob of the entire school (and my hopeless crush) whispered. "Wha-what happened?" He asked, his eyes travelling to my bruises, scraped arms, and puffy red eyes. He began to reach out to me, as if he could somehow grab my pain and toss it aside. No matter how tough Phil acted, I knew that that's just what it was: an act. As far as I knew, no one dared to face the older boy. He wouldn't understand my pain. He'd probably just laugh like the others.

My face burned with embarrassment, and I pushed myself off of the ground and dashed through the hallways. Rounding the corner at a speed that would warrant a strict yelling-at if I was ever caught going, I zoomed through the front door of the school.

"Honey, wait!" The office lady called after me. She abruptly sat up from her chair, knocking over her mug full of sweet-smelling tea.

Usually, I would do anything to avoid attention. I was a rule follower; there wasn't much that I could do about it… but today was different. I got out of the school so fast that I didn't even see the tea splash onto the woman's shirt.

I flew across the street, too consumed in my own thoughts to care where I was going. As I deftly navigated neighbourhoods and side streets, I failed to notice another quiet, slightly heavier pair of footsteps echoing my own.

I wondered if Phil would even consider liking me after that. It's not like it was likely that he returned my feelings before, but now I felt like the odds were astronomical. He not only had seen me beaten up, but he had seen me crying as well. I cursed myself for not answering him when he asked what was wrong. What would he think of me? Phil was basically the only thing I cared about anymore, and I was in danger of losing him too. My family wasn't exactly the greatest. They teased me about my fashion choices and called me horrible names. Without a family to love me, I had gone in search of another person to attach my feelings to.

That person had been Phil. He had been everything that I could ever hope for. I fell for the way his blue eyes sparkled, the way his black-dyed hair flopped around his ears, and most of all his wonderful personality. No matter how tough Phil seemed to he on the outside, I had always seen through his guise. Phil was extremely kind, and his bubbly personality was like nothing I had ever seen before. Even after just minutes of time spent in his presence, I always felt like I was on cloud nine.

Now, though, I had ruined everything. I couldn't bear the thought of life without Phil. A life without that wonderful personality would be no life at all. Even though we rarely spoke, Phil usually seemed happy to see me. I had gone and destroyed whatever friendship we had. Who would ever want to be friends with a crybaby wimp like me who couldn't even stand up for himself?

I realized where I was when I heard the metallic clank of my feet on the stairwell. Somehow, I had lead myself all the way to my dad's office building. _How fitting,_ I thought. _He can watch as I end my own life because of his lack of love._

As I climbed the stairs, I was left with my own thoughts once more. This time, though, they weren't all about Phil. The main question in my mind was _Would anyone miss me?_ It's not like I had friends, and my family obviously didn't care. _Maybe the bullies would be sad that their toy got broken,_ I thought with depressed amusement. The thoughts continued as I climbed up the stairs, finally reaching the top.

When I pushed open the door to the roof, a harsh wind buffeted me, almost blowing me back into the building. I fought back, finally closing the door against the wind. Slowly, I made my way to the edge of the roof. I fixed my flower crown, straightening it until it was perfectly level. The rusty railing flaked off in my hands as I grabbed it to hoist myself over the edge. With hands shaking, I let go of the railing and stood up on the ledge. I looked down at the busy street below, wondering what would happen when someone spotted a boy falling to his death. Just as I was about to lean over the edge and resign myself to my fate, a rough hand grasped mine.

I whirled around, temporarily forgetting where I was, and slipped off the edge of the building. I would have fallen to my death, if not for the hands who found their way to my arms. I looked up, afraid of whoever would stop me from ending my pain. What I saw however, shocked me out of words. There, inches above my face, was Phil. His eyes were shut and his muscles taught in his effort to pull me up. Neither of us were very strong people, so hauling someone over a railing was a feat in itself. Somehow, though, Phil managed it. As soon as my backside hit the ground, I was enveloped in a warm hug. I realized my face was wet - not from my own tears, but from the tears of the wondrous boy who saved my life.

Still sobbing, Phil pulled back from me. "Don't ever do that again!" He shouted, burying his face in my side once more. "Don't ever think you aren't loved," he whispered, his voice slightly muffled by my pink jumper. I must have stared at him in disbelief, because seconds later I was left with his lips pressed to my own and the memory of his cobalt eyes shining with some deep emotion that seemed to set my world on fire.

We pulled back when we heard the sound of a siren and saw blue and red flashing lights. We looked at each other, both thinking the same thing.

"The lady at the front desk must have called the police," I murmured, hanging my head in shame. Phil gently ran his hand along my cheek, bringing it under my chin.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I've got you." I leaned in for a hug, burying my face into the crook of Phil's neck. We stayed in each other's warm embrace until the cops found us. I will never forget that day.


End file.
